The Process of Metamorphosis
by Death-God-777
Summary: Shane was 'whatever' according to Nate, and whatever didn't sell. Shane didn't understand what Nate meant until he was sent back to Camp Rock. There, he found what he had lost and salvaged what was left. Set before, during and after Camp Rock.
1. Slipping

**The Process of Metamorphosis**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Camp Rock or the Jonas Brothers. Camp Rock belongs to Disney and the Jonas Brothers belong to themselves.

**Characters:** Shane, Nate and Jason

**Words:** 3, 995

**Author's Notes:** I always wanted see why Shane stormed off the set to their music video, or at least have Shane try and explain away his actions. Since that never happens, this doesn't do that, but it's just more added Connect 3 jabber I created. Since Nate and Shane are my favourite characters in Camp Rock, they're the main ones in this.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

"_No we're not gonna work this out tonight,_

_(we won't work this out)_

_No we're not gonna make this right."_

- Tonight, by Jonas Brothers

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

It was a normal day for Nate; or at least, as normal as days were of late. It started the usual way; which, for Connect 3, consisted of an early wake up call at the ripe time of five in the morning. Nate groaned as he heard his alarm clock blaring in his ears. Stretching out a hand from under the blankets, he tapped the device into silence. Letting his arm flop, Nate took a deep breath before rolling over and pushing his blankets off.

His feet hit the floor with a barely audible thud and he ran a hand through sleep-tousled hair. It was time to wake the others. Yes, someone had come up with the brilliant idea of having Nate wake up Jason and Shane every morning. Jason he could live with, it was Shane that was the problem. With an irritated shake of his head, Nate set off into the next room.

Jason was sprawled across his bed, legs and arms flung in all different directions. The pillow was, of course, on the floor half-way across the room. How it always got there was a mystery to Nate but he wasn't too keen on finding out. Reaching out, he gently shook Jason, pulling the covers back for good measure.

"Huh…?" Jason drawled, eyes opening blearily. "Wha…?"

"Up and at 'em Jason," Nate called. "Time to get up."

"What time is it?"

Nate resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Five o'clock dude. The same time I woke you up yesterday, and the day before, _and_ the day before that. Come on, up and get dressed. Breakfast's in half an hour."

"Mm…ok, I'll be there," Jason answered, stumbling on the covers as he stood up.

The youngest Connect 3 member gave a satisfied nod before heading on to the next room. Shane's room. He sincerely hoped today wasn't going to be anything like yesterday but he knew Shane and Shane was consistent. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Nate wandered over to Shane's bedside. Their lead diva was buried under his blankets and only the top of his head was visible.

"Shane!" Nate whispered, trying to rouse Shane gently.

Aforementioned singer merely mumbled in response.

"God help me," Nate muttered before reaching out and shaking Shane carefully. "Shane."

No response.

"Sha-ane."

Again, no response.

He shook a little harder.

"Shane!"

"Jesus Nate!" Shane exclaimed, suddenly awake and lashing out with an arm wildly. "What are you doing? Get outta my room. It's too early man."

"Dude, it's already past five o'clock. We _have_ to get up. Breakfast's at five thirty. You can't be late. _Again_." He added, stressing the 'again'. Shane had been late every day this week, and it was definitely not due to a lack of trying on Nate's behalf.

"Shut up Nate." The pop star pulled his blankets tight around him. "Now, get lost."

"Shane you have to get up!" Nate implored. "Jason is already up. I'm up. That only leaves you. Get up, have a shower, and do whatever it is you need to do. Put product in your hair. You got to sleep-in yesterday."

"Six-thirty is hardly a sleep in," Shane snapped back, glaring at Nate.

"It is when filming starts at seven," came the retort. "Shane, please!"

"Oh just shut up Nate!" Shane yelled angrily. "You go, I'll be there."

Nate shot him a look that was clearly disbelieving. Shane didn't take that too well. Before Nate had time to move, Shane was out of bed and gripping his arm tightly. Roughly, Shane dragged his band-mate to his door and practically threw Nate through it, slamming the door in his face. Nate regained his footing just before he crashed into the carpet. Growling, he kicked the now closed door as hard as he could.

Hearing Shane's resultant mad yell, Nate dashed off back to his room. Grabbing the outfit that had been left hanging on his door by their stylist the night before, Nate made for the bathroom and leapt inside, hastily locking the door behind him. Throwing the clothes haphazardly on the floor, he raced to the shower and turned the water on full.

Creeping back to the door and placing an ear against it, Nate could hear Shane right on the opposite side of the door, huffing. As he listened, Shane stalked away, convinced that Nate was already in the shower. Nate winced when he heard some crashing noises. He just hoped it wasn't his guitar that had suffered the brunt of Shane's wrath.

When Nate was absolutely certain that Shane had returned to his own room, he undressed, straightened the clothes he had thrown down earlier and then jumped into the shower. Yep, situation normal so far. He ran his hands down his face in exasperation. Shane was becoming too much for him to handle.

That too was becoming normal.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

It was five-thirty and breakfast was underway. The director of their music video was supposed to be arriving in a few minutes to join them and have a quick meeting on today's schedule. Nate was hardly surprised when there was no sign of Shane. Earlier, when Nate had finally left the bathroom, he had soon discovered that everything that had been on his bedside tables had been forcibly moved to the floor, courtesy of Shane. He had hardly expected his band-mate to show up their morning meal on time.

"Hey Nate," Jason said round a bite of waffle. "Where's Shane?"

Nate shrugged. "I don't know. You go find him."

"Whoa man," Jason replied, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I was just wondering."

"Yeah, sorry," he answered with a sigh, placing down his cutlery. "He's just driving me crazy."

"Heh, it's not just you. He's driving everyone crazy." Jason paused, looking remotely thoughtful for a second. "I don't remember him driving me crazy when we first met."

"Because he didn't," Nate stated darkly. "He used to be cool, normal, down-to-earth. Now he's just whatever. And whatever 'whatever' is, it's bad publicity."

"Yeah, but we're Connect 3," pointed out Jason, obviously missing the gravity of the situation. "Any publicity is good right?"

"Sure," Nate scoffed. "Unless it's Shane-publicity, and then it's just annoying. I mean, when did Shane become so self-centred? This band is Connect 3; there's three of us. It's not all about him. I think I liked the old Shane better."

"Sorry to disappoint."

Jason froze and Nate felt the colour drain from his face as he slowly turned around. With dread, he saw that Shane was standing in the doorway and had indeed heard the majority of their conversation. While he had had it up to here with Shane, it was never something that Nate would have wanted Shane to hear in a context like this. As he imagined, Shane looked downright furious.

"Shane, I-"

"Save it Nate," Shane interrupted, throwing himself into a chair at the table. "It's obvious that you meant what you said so don't bother going 'oh, I didn't really mean it'. You think I'm stupid? If you really hate me, then just say it. I'm not gonna cry to my mother."

Every guilty feeling Nate had promptly left. "I don't hate you Shane," he said sharply, "I'm just sick of you. That clear enough for you?"

And with that, Nate threw down his napkin and left the table, heading over to the tv and flicking it on absently. The first channel that came on was the sport channel. Nate was in the process of reaching for the remote to switch stations when Shane called out:

"Change the channel Nate, I hate watching sport."

Nate shot a murderous look at Shane but the older boy was already engrossed in his breakfast. With the sole purpose of spiting Shane, Nate grabbed the remote and simply turned the volume louder, pretending to be totally fascinated by the hockey game that was being shown.

"Nate!" Shane yelled.

Nate ignored him.

"God Nate," Shane said, walking over and giving him a patronising look. "You're so immature. I _know_ you hate sport as much as I do."

Reaching down, Shane wrenched the remote out of Nate's unsuspecting hands and changed the tv over to the music station. Chucking the remote down, he started to walk away when Nate quickly grabbed it and turned the sport back on. Nate gave Shane a challenging look. Shane looked at him like he'd just said the most unamusing thing ever, to which Nate simply raised an eyebrow.

Rolling his eyes, Shane held out a hand, clearly expecting Nate to just hand over the remote. Nate eyed the hand in disbelief and turned his eyes back to the plasma screen wordlessly. Shane snarled and stormed over. With a knee, he pinned Nate's legs down and used both his hands to rip the remote free. Pressing the button on the remote much harder than was necessary, Shane put the music station back on. Nate went to grab the remote but Shane pushed him down, flinging the remote away as hard as he could.

There was loud, shattering crash and everyone turned around to see a gaping hole in the window behind Shane. Jason leapt from the table and ran straight over. Nick was staring at Shane with wide eyes. Shane, for his part, just shrugged after he saw the broken window. He figured that since it was already broken, that was that and nothing more could be done.

"Are you insane?" Nate demanded, shoving Shane off and sending him toppling to the floor. The young guitarist quickly ran to the window. "This is not good."

"Hey look," Jason said, pointing with a finger. "I can see the remote! It's down in the pool! See Nate!"

Shane came over, intrigued and a little pleased with himself. Joining Jason at the window, he positively beamed when he caught sight of the remote in the pool floors below.

"Alright!" he cheered, giving Jason a high-five.

"Guys!" Nate cut in, his demeanour exuding everything but amusement. "This isn't a laughing matter. Jason, you shouldn't be joking about this, this is serious. And Shane, you can't just throw a remote through a window because you feel like it."

"Well I wouldn't have had to throw it out if you'd just left it on the channel I wanted," Shane responded.

"This is not my fault!" Nate said. "You can't always get what you want-"

"You can't?" Jason asked.

"-so stop acting like everything revolves around you," Nate continued, ignoring Jason easily.

"Oh stop being such an old-fuss pot Nate," Shane sneered. "We're rock stars. People expect this kind of stuff from us."

"See Jason?" Nate asked, turning to their third band member. "This is a perfect example of Shane-publicity. It's ok to break a window because I'm famous. If I didn't, I would be a let down to the whole rock and roll community."

"You know what Nate?" Shane said, looking at him intently. "You say I'm full of it, but you're just as bad. You always think you know what is right, how each of us should act, what we should say, and you always think that you're the only one who can handle a situation responsibly."

"And aren't I?" Nate shot back, eyebrows raised.

Shane was about to tell Nate exactly what he thought of him – almost all of which would have been extremely derogatory – when the door to their suite opened. As one, the members of Connect 3 turned around. Their director, Kay Simmons, smiled at them as he walked in, frowning when he caught sight of the window.

"Wha-"

"Oh," Shane said, cutting Kay off before he could even start. The pop-star slung an arm over Nate's shoulders, all smiles. "I was just telling Nate off. Can you believe he threw the tv remote out the window because he couldn't find anything he wanted to watch on tv?"

Jason's mouth dropped open in disbelief but Nate merely huffed; he'd seen it coming. The director looked at him with something akin to shock and Nate merely shrugged.

"Yeah," he answered flippantly. "I realise now how irresponsible and immature it was." The grip on his shoulders by Shane tightened painfully. "But it won't happen again."

"I certainly hope not," Kay agreed, waving a hand to dismiss the subject.

Shane let go of Nate and returned to the table, his breakfast still unfinished. Kay gave Nate a once over and Nate knew at once that his story hadn't been bought. Kay wasn't an idiot. He could probably guess what had happened, but he was willing to let it slip if Nate was; so long as one of them took the blame. Nate just shrugged again and returned to the table. Kay joined him, as did Jason, and so their meeting began.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

It was one o'clock before the boys of Connect 3 were finally given a break. They had been filming all morning. While the actual video was straightforward, it was time-consuming. There were scenes that were solely Shane, and other scenes that involved the whole band. Unfortunately, Kay had decided that having the band wearing the same outfit for the entire video would be monotonous and so they had to do the song over and over again while wearing different clothes. The idea was to cut these shots together so that their outfits swapped with each camera angle change.

Shane was exhausted. Singing and dancing and jumping for hours on end was hard work and having to change clothes so many times was just downright irritating. Jason, of course, was totally loving the whole thing. Nate merely accepted everything with a fake indifference. Shane, on the other hand, was making sure the director knew exactly what he thought every opportunity he got.

"_Don't you think ten outfits is a bit extreme? Jason and Nate only have six!"_

"_It is _not _easy to lip-synch! Especially while swinging the mic stand. Here, you wanna try?"_

"_What do you mean your cameraman was out of position? Did he even go to film school?"_

"_We've done this solo scene, like, fifteen times. I cannot believe not even one take was good enough. God."_

Those were just some examples of the various comments he had made over the course of the morning. Honestly, he thought they were valid. It had seemed as though everything that could have gone wrong had. In fact, the whole day had been crap, right from the very beginning. And it didn't look like his luck was going to change any time soon.

"Hey Shane," Jason said, two plates of food in his hand. He held one out. "I got you some lunch. I figured you'd be more tired than Nate or me."

"You got that right," Shane answered, taking the food and starting to eat. "This whole video is just ridiculous. It's all outfits and flashing lights."

"That's what sells."

Shane literally growled when he heard Nate's voice. He'd had enough of the kid for one day. "Is that so?" he asked shortly. "Yeah well, I think it's a dumb idea."

"Probably," Nate agreed with a shrug, settling next to Jason. "But it's what the label wants. It's what sells; it's what keeps us in business. If we came up with an idea that would work just as well, they'd probably let us use it."

"Sure, and the Easter bunny exists too, right?" Shane said sarcastically.

"What does that mean?" Jason exclaimed, looking shocked. "Oh Shane, you cannot be saying that the Easter bunny is fake because that would just be the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Of course he's real. Where else would Easter eggs come from?"

"Hmm, let me think about that," Nate fake-pondered, giving Jason an incredulous look. "Anyway," he said, turning back to Shane. "This video may not be everything you want it to be, but try to make the best of it. Who knows, it could be more fun than you think."

"I'd have more fun cutting my hair with safety scissors."

"I'd like to see that."

"I'm sure."

Shane was unsure if they were just about to make the transition from sarcasm to genuine joking but he would never find out because at that point Kay decided to walk over. He had a disgruntled expression on his face, which Shane assumed was bad.

'_Oh great,'_ he moaned internally. _'What now?'_

"Hey guys," Kay said calmly, trying to be reassuring.

Shane shot a look at Nate and he saw that his band mate was watching Kay very closely, also picking up that something was wrong.

"What's happened?" Shane asked impatiently. "More bad news?"

"Shane!" Nate hissed, glaring at him.

Well, there went any hope they had of getting along for the rest of the day. Shane could never let anyone have the last word, and so glared back, causing Nate to roll his eyes at Shane's impossible attitude.

"Guys!" called Kay, refocusing their attention. "I've just been playing back some of the footage we took this morning and it looks as though the camera had an error. There's a large segment of footage that's all blurry so we're going to have to re-shoot. No early mark today boys, sorry."

Shane felt rage start boiling away in his stomach. That was just flipping typical, wasn't it? All his hard work amounted to nothing in the end! And then the director acting as though this was merely a minor issue, like a blue pen instead of a black one.

"Don't worry about it."

Nate's voice cut through Shane's angry haze.

"It's ok. We understand that it wasn't your fault. We're happy to do the scenes again, right guys?"

That was, as they say, the straw that broke the camel's back. Shane couldn't believe that Nate was taking this so casually. His frustration only grew when he heard Jason's usual chirpy answer.

"You mean we get to do all the singing and guitar playing again? Awesome! I cannot wait."

"Shane?" Nate prompted after a moment of silence, sending him a look that was clearly pleading him to answer responsibly. "That's cool, right?"

"No Nate!" Shane yelled as though it was obvious. Didn't any of them see how tiresome this was? How extremely unfair it was? "That's not 'cool'. These guys are supposed to be professionals! You wanna go around wasting your own time, that's fine, but don't waste mine. I'm not doing all that again, just cause it's a little blurry! I'm sure you'll find something you can use."

"That's not possible Shane," Kay replied apologetically. "I already checked what we could salvage, and it's not enough."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

The director raised an eyebrow. "Really? It sounds more like your problem to me. This is your band's music video we're talking about after all."

"That's right, _my_ band. And my band is over this."

"Hey man!" Jason protested. "I don't have a problem with this!"

"And neither do I," Nate said in that ever so condescending tone that Shane despised. Oh how he hated Nate right now.

"Like hell you do Nate," Shane sneered darkly. "You just won't admit it because you're too busy being perfect. Don't let honesty get in the way of your perfect image." He scoffed. "Let me know when that stops working out for you."

Nate physically took a step back, startled by Shane's words. For once, he didn't have a comeback. Well, he did, but he was actually genuinely scared of Shane. He didn't want to do anything that would antagonise the pop-star more.

"Shane, I think you've said enough," Kay said decisively. "Now, you go and change your clothes and we'll start filming again. Be on stage in ten."

Kay turned to walk away when a crashing sound caused him to turn around. Shane was standing there, a broken plate at his feet and an unreadable expression on his face.

"I don't know where you get off talking to me like that," Shane commented, folding his arms stiffly. "I'm Shane Gray. _No one_ speaks to me like that."

"Shane," Jason implored quietly, more than a little unnerved, "just chill out man."

"_Shut up!" _

Everyone on set paused as Shane turned on his band member, untempered fury in his gaze. Jason froze, and Nate was quick to jump between the two boys, though his nervousness was clearly evident. For a moment, Shane truly thought he was going to slam his fist into Nate but he finally restrained himself, despite the pleasure he was sure the action would have brought. Backing off, he saw Nate's shoulders slump in relief but the hardness in his young gaze was still there. The little guitarist still thought he knew better – of course!

Blowing off his fellow Connect 3 members, Shane spun around, grabbed his chair and threw it straight at their set. After all, something needed to pay for the intense fury he was feeling. And if it wasn't Nate and Jason, it would be the next best thing: their precious music video set.

People yelled and ran in various directions as the back-drop cracked and started to collapse. One rather large piece of plaster crashed into the drum kit, sending it toppling and completely wrecking the two toms. Cameramen hastily hauled their cameras away and roadies were quick to remove the guitars, lest they be damaged also.

When the dust had settled, everyone looked between Shane and the set in disbelief, and a tinge of horror.

"That's what I think of you and this damned video," Shane informed them loudly.

And with that, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the room. Various protests could be heard and he picked up footsteps as someone came running after him. Shane turned around and shoved the figure, hard, already guessing who it would be. Nate hit the ground roughly and only just managed to stop his head slamming into the concrete.

"Just piss off Nate," growled Shane, towering over his fallen form. "You know how you didn't hate me, you were just sick of me?" He asked, waiting for a single nod in response before continuing. "Well, I'm not just sick of you, I hate you."

Turning away before he could see the devastation he had left in his wake, Shane made his way over to their limo. With a bark to the driver, he was being driven back to the hotel. In the studio behind him, everyone else stayed to pick up the broken pieces.

And Shane didn't care.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Nate was lying on his stomach on his hotel bed. He hadn't been bothered to kick his shoes off and his arms were folded underneath his pillow. He was staring at the headboard as though it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. Hearing a noise from the doorway, Nate looked over and saw Jason standing there uncertainly.

"Come in," Nate said quietly, giving Jason the biggest smile he could, which was appallingly small.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked as he seated himself next to Nate, putting a hand on aforementioned guy's shoulder.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Nate asked back, returning his attention to the wall once more.

"Shane said some pretty mean things to you. _And_ he did push you over," pointed out Jason.

"I'm fine," he lied. "Hey Jason," he whispered, looking at his fellow guitarist, "do you trust me?"

Jason looked affronted. "Of course I do! I can't believe you even had to ask that!"

Nate let out a small chuckle. "I'm just wondering if you trust me enough to let me do what's best for Connect 3, as a band."

"Dude, I'd trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want." Jason nodded to himself in affirmation. "So what are you gonna do?" he suddenly asked, seeming to only just realise the true implications of what Nate had said.

Nate sighed and rolled over, looking Jason straight in the eye. "I'm cancelling our summer tour."

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

_A/N: and so end chapter 1. I think this'll probably turn into a three-piece work; sort of a before Camp Rock, during and after. I tried to keep everyone in character but I may have failed so pleast let me know what you think._

_I wanna thank you for taking the time to read this. Feel free to leave reviews. I always find your words extremely helpful, not to mention inspiring. Until next time!_

_DG777_


	2. Regaining My Footing As You Lose Yours

**The Process of Metamorphosis**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Camp Rock or the Jonas Brothers. Camp Rock belongs to Disney and the Jonas Brothers belong to themselves.

**Characters:** Shane, Nate and Jason

**Words:** 4, 430

**Author's Notes:** First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed! You were all really positive and I'm glad you liked it. Basically, everything in this chapter was not in the original plans except for the section where Jason and Shane are texting each other. The rest was made up but I now realise that it is essential and that without it, this fic would be rubbish.

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"_I need to be somebody sometimes,_

_Feeling so cool in the shade of the spotlight."_

- Kick The Bass by Julien-K

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Shane was not impressed.

Not impressed at all.

Here he was, in the middle of nowhere in a camp that he didn't want anything to do with. And he was stuck here for the entire duration of the summer unless he could convince Nate and Jason to come back and pick him up. Chances of that happening: zip to none. Oh, and yeah, his Uncle Brown was here. That just made everything better, didn't it? Sure, Shane liked his uncle as a relative, but as a person, the man was just way too try-hard.

Lying on the uncomfortable camp mattress – which wasn't actually _that _uncomfortable if he was honest – Shane had plenty to time to ponder his current situation. Not as in where he was, but in how he had gotten there. In under twenty-four hours, he had discovered that Connect 3's music video had been axed, that he was being sent to camp like a prisoner _and_ their summer tour had been cancelled.

That had probably been the worst blow of all. If there was anything Shane loved, it was performing to his screaming fans. Now, even that simple luxury had been taken away from him. Their tour director had spoken to him over dinner and delivered the news. Shane had been furious and demanded to know whose great idea that had been. Of course, it had been a 'collective agreement'. Well, that had been the director's wording, though Jason had let slip that the idea had actually been Nate's. Shane _had _wondered why Nate hadn't turned up to dinner that night.

Shane had then made for Nate's room angrily, ready to give the boy the talking to he deserved, until Jason informed him that Nate had gone out earlier and hadn't given a return time. Typical. Shane had waited up for the guitarist but he had never returned to the hotel. Instead, he was already in the limo the next morning when Shane was being escorted to the fabled Camp Rock.

Nate had acted as though everything was cool between them and Shane had quickly realised that Nate still thought his secret was safe. Maybe he didn't know that Jason had ratted him out accidentally. Pretending as though nothing had been wrong, Shane had idly remarked on Nate's absence the previous night; to which Nate just said he'd been dealing with the press.

'_Damn Nate and his stupid PR and publicity,'_ Shane thought agitatedly.

He was stuck in the wilderness because of it. The way Nate had talked about this camp, you'd think Shane had been sent on a nice summer holiday filled with relaxing naps in the sun and that the press would love him for it. Shane growled. Nate knew nothing about how hellish this camp was going to be. Oh sure, they had once loved this place, but that had been three years ago! Back before they had been big; back before Shane had had a life!

Sighing in annoyance, Shane clambered off of his bed. Glancing up at the mess hall, he could tell that dinner was well in progress. And if they did their usual after-dinner jam, that would give him at least an hour to himself to walk around. Shane had already stepped out of his cabin once and been pursued by a screaming mob. He wasn't in a hurry to repeat the experience. Girls behind a barricade he could handle. Girls chasing him with no security, that was out of his league.

Slinging his guitar onto his back for good measure, Shane headed down to the lake. For some reason, the thought of water had always calmed him. And now, being here, seated by the lake in the twilight, it felt as though he was somehow freer. The water lapped up near his shoes but the tide would soon go out and leave him alone.

"I thought I might find you here."

Shane glanced round to see his Uncle Brown standing behind him, arms folded pensively.

"What? Do you follow me around?" Shane asked incredulously.

"Just making sure you don't drown yourself in your no-doubt unrivalled self-pity," he answered, attempting at humour.

Shane merely scoffed. "Yeah, whatever."

Silence passed between them. Shane couldn't really see why his uncle had bothered to come and talk to him. He would be out of here as soon as possible anyway. Once he finally managed to get through to Nate the stupidity of his idea, he would be back in a hotel with a limo waiting out front to drive him anywhere and everywhere he wanted.

"You going to join the other campers for dinner?"

Shane looked at Brown as though he was literally deranged. "What do you think? You think I'm gonna eat that junk you call food?"

"Well I figure you might sort of have to. No one does five-star deliveries here mate. You can either eat what's on offer, or starve yourself."

Shane pouted, realising he had a point. "Fine," he answered, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll have my manager send through my food allergy list. Hopefully I can find something eatable at breakfast tomorrow."

Before his uncle could make another one of his 'witty' remarks, Shane started trekking back to his cabin. The path through the woods was engraved in his mind and he could walk it even in total darkness. When he had been here with Jason and Nate, they had wandered down this path every night after lights out. Then they would just sit on the pier or the water's edge and write music until one of them fell asleep. Once that happened, they would head back to their cabin and crash as one.

Shane felt a ghost of a smile worm its way onto his face. Those were good memories. Those nights had been awesome; and always full of something they could laugh at later. Like the time Jason had ran to the edge of the pier only to misjudge the distance in the darkness and go crashing into the water. Or the time Nate had fallen asleep and toppled back off the pier, only to have Shane and Jason grab him and his guitar seconds before they hit the water. Or the night Shane had run down and missed a tree that had fallen down earlier in the day, causing him to trip over it and somersault through the sand a couple of times before coming to a halt.

Shane was openly grinning now. That was what Connect 3 had been all about. Just the three of them, hanging out at night, falling asleep in class during the day and always being the most enthusiastic at every jam – whether they had been audience members or performers. Him and Nate trying to catch Jason every time he ran off following a new bird he had seen. Him and Jason putting Nate to bed every time he stayed up on their cabin floor practising until he dozed off. Nate and Jason cheering him on every time he had gotten up to perform, whether it had been a lesson in class or just free-styling on a table in the middle of dinner.

The smile slid from his face as Shane realised those moments were gone. They didn't do anything like that anymore. They didn't hang out. There was just the next song, the next album, the next interview. The only thing that connected them now was their name.

Shane gripped his head tightly. He had felt the connection slipping, and he had felt the pain that it had been starting to cause him. So he had stopped feeling. He had stopped caring. He had looked after himself, because he had been the only person he could never detach himself from. He had only cared about his image and his own satisfaction. Because that way, it didn't hurt.

And he couldn't change that. Because he was Shane Gray. And everyone else was…who? Exactly.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Nate was sitting on the shower floor. Warm water pelted him in a continual barrage and he could see the steam rising over the glass walls. Pulling his knees up to his chest, Nate looped his arms around them absently. He watched the water run off his body and into the drain.

"_You say I'm full of it, but you're just as bad."_

Nate scrunched his eyes up tighter as Shane's voice echoed back through his head again. He didn't think he was as bad as Shane, but maybe he was. Sure, Shane was a controlling jerk, but wasn't he, Nate, a nice, controlling jerk? He always made the decisions, never asked the others for opinions really, and always took charge. Perhaps he was just as obnoxious; he just hid it behind a professional mask of calm demeanour.

"_Don't let honesty get in the way of your perfect image. Let me know when that stops working out for you."_

Shaking, Nate bit his lip, trying to stop any tears from falling. He wasn't like Shane, he wasn't! He wasn't so self-centred, wasn't so glory obsessed…was he?

Burying his face in his arms, a pitiful whisper made it past his lips. "It's not working for me anymore Shane." He grabbed fistful of hair. "What do I do now?"

But, of course, there was no answer for him. Because Shane wasn't here. Because _he_ had sent him away. Because he _always_ knew what was best. Because he was always _right_.

Because he was Nate.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

"_And you are?"_

"_A person! And there's a way to speak to a person, and that's not it."_

Her voice was still in his head. Shane didn't know who she was, but she had annoyed him and made him feel guilty all at the same time. True, he was famous, but also true that yes, she was a person as much as she was. His fame and popularity didn't give him anymore rights than her.

He paused mid-step. Was that what Nate and Jason had been trying to teach him?

Shaking his head, Shane continued walking. Maybe Nate had been trying to achieve something besides improved publicity by sending him to Camp Rock. Shane was starting to think that maybe Nate was more intelligent than he had ever given him credit for.

Reaching his cabin, Shane pushed open the door and quickly closed it behind him, pulling down the blinds on the windows. Crouching next to his bed, the pop-star fumbled around until his hand came to rest upon his notebook. Grasping it, Shane pulled it out, brushing off the thin layer of dust that had already formed.

Seating himself down on his bed, the singer picked up a pen from his bedside table. Flicking to a blank page, he drew a column down the centre of the page. On one side he wrote 'then' and on the other side, 'now'. Under each heading, Shane started to list characteristics that he used to have and ones that he now had.

He didn't know how long he sat there. Often he'd be distracted because he'd think of a new word, and then a memory, or dozen, would come with it and he would relive each of those moments. It was late afternoon by the time he finally decided to put his pen down, twisting his wrist a few times to work the cramp out of it. Needless to say, the list was extensive, and quite detailed. After all, no one was ever going to see it but Shane.

With shame, he looked at the words listed under 'now', some which had come courtesy of Nate or other people during previous encounters.

_Selfish, arrogant, impatient, egoist, demanding, doesn't listen, impossible to satisfy, constantly annoyed, perfectionist, heavily opinionated (and expressive), cold, condescending, singer, stylish._

The last two he'd added just to make himself feel better about himself. Of course there had been many more ideas on the page, but they were often just expansions on his main points. Shane glared at the list hatefully through moist eyes. Was this really what he had become? When had he become such a monster?

'_Hmm, monster. That one should probably be added,'_ Shane thought idly.

But still, there was a part of him that told him not to be ashamed. Wouldn't every super-star fit those terms? Wasn't that what being famous was all about? You were _supposed_ to make ridiculous demands and get what you wanted whenever you wanted it. You were _supposed_ to be full of yourself and patronising. If you weren't, what sort of celebrity were you? The ones that just seem to fall off the radar? When did magazines ever have cover stories like, '_Angelina and Brad, happy and peaceful together'_? No one cared about that sort of stuff.

And yet, in his heart, Shane knew that it wasn't right. He knew that he shouldn't act like this. If his parents had been alive, he was sure they would be horrified by what he had become. The boy they had started to raise had been intelligent, cheerful and friendly, accompanied by a love of music. In fact, if they saw him today, they probably wouldn't even recognise him.

Shane groaned. When did living become so complicated?

Flopping back on his bed, he held up his list again; this time focusing on the 'then' column.

_Outgoing, loud, down-to-earth, impatient, cheeky, adventurous, crowd pleaser, confident, disruptive, brotherly._

He didn't have as many in this column but he had enough to realise what the main difference was between the two lists. In both, he had written down that he was impatient but that had used to be a good characteristic. He was always in a hurry to write the new song, have that late-night bon-fire, to get to that next lesson, and to be out there performing with Jason and Nate. Now, he was just impatient at everything. He had abused that aspect of his personality. In fact, Shane would say he had let it run rampant. His self-control – that had been lost somewhere along the way. His bad characteristics now out-weighed his good ones tremendously.

_Brotherly._

That was the one that hurt the most. When he'd written that one down and realised that he wasn't able to mirror it on the other side, Shane felt like he'd stabbed himself in the heart. That second year at Camp Rock, Nate and Jason's first year, Shane had made a point of filling the role of Nate's older brother, as Nate was two years his junior. And now, all he did was push his 'little brother' out of his world, continually.

Hearing footsteps outside, Shane quickly screwed the paper into a ball and threw it under his bed hastily. Wiping away any evidence of tears, Shane nudged the door open a sliver. To his great relief, he saw that what he had heard was not someone coming to his cabin, but rather everyone else heading up to dinner. Shane decided to pass; his appetite seemed to have left him anyway.

Opening up all the blinds again and unlocking the door, Shane picked up his pen and paper again, only this time grabbing his acoustic too. Seating himself at his desk, he gave the guitar an experimental strum. Adjusting the strings until they were all in tune, he started playing simple chords.

So maybe he couldn't change his personality instantly, but he could make a start. And where else to begin but with his music? It _was_ a window to his soul. And anyway, he couldn't get that tune out of his head – the one that girl had been singing.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

The sun was well and truly about to set when Brown walked into the cabin. Shane barely gave him a passing glance, immersed in his music as he was. He'd shrugged at the comment about how it sounded like his old music and made a simple, casual suggestion that maybe Connect 3 could change their sound.

And then Brown had suggested he head down to the Camp Fire Jam.

Shane shook his head in disbelief. "Yeah right." Oops, had he said that out loud?

After Brown left, with his dumb 'way cooler' remark, Shane couldn't get rid of the niggling feeling that perhaps his uncle was right. While he didn't really want to go down to the Camp Fire Jam, could it really do any harm? And besides, wasn't he saying that he was going to change himself? Wasn't he trying to become the 'old Shane' again, as Nate had put it?

Groaning, Shane knew that he already had his answer. He would go down and watch everyone else. But just as a shadowy spectator, not an audience member. If he went down into the audience, people would start expecting something from him. And tonight wasn't about him, it was about this year's campers. Shane was an instructor at Camp Rock, not a camper. It was their turn for the spotlight.

Wait, whoa, did he really just think that?

'_I'm better at being the old me than I thought,'_ Shane mused, allowing himself a little proud smile as he walked down to the camp fire.

It was rather nostalgic, seeing all these people get up and perform their best to an audience of their peers. Some would go on to become big stars, – like him and Jason and Nate – others would slink into the background, and others would lose their interest in music all together.

The Camp Fire Jam had been the first jam Shane had performed in with Jason and Nate. Jason had been so stoked, excitement and adrenaline causing him to shake as he waited for his turn. Nate had stuck to Shane's side like glue, afraid to perform but so ready to give it his all if Shane asked. And Shane, cool and confident as ever, had been pumped, arm slung around Nate in an encouraging gesture.

Then it had been their turn. Shane couldn't remember much of it; just a lot of lights, clapping and buzzing excitement. He had sung his heart out, and Jason and Nate had played with the same amount of passion and enthusiasm. At the end, they had received a standing ovation and Shane had grabbed his friends' hands together for a traditional bow. Once they'd dashed off stage, Jason had swooped them into a hug and they had stayed like that for who knows how long.

The next time they had performed together – publically – had been Final Jam. Sure there had been some jams in between, but Nate had shied away from the opportunities and Jason had been content to simply watch, which had left Shane doing solo acts. But both boys had urged him on every time, telling him to get up there for their sakes.

Shane had agreed reluctantly and he had enjoyed himself, but nothing could ever top the feeling of playing in that Final Jam as a group. Even Nate had been drawn to the lure of Final Jam. Together, as three young people with a common love of music, they had pulled through to win. They had been in state of euphoria until almost sunrise, when a very tired looking Brown had told them to 'just sock it and get to bed already'.

With the remembered joy evident on his face, Shane realised with a start that the final act had just finished. He hastily joined in the clapping, though he had no idea whether the group had been brilliant or appalling. He was sure a goofy smile was on his face, and he was nearly one hundred percent certain that it would be misinterpreted if anyone were to look at him. No doubt they would assume that was remarkably impressed – which he wasn't.

Ducking his head to hide his smile, Shane abruptly turned and made a bee-line for the safety of his room. With the acts over, there was no reason for the campers to linger and he didn't want them catching and hounding him. Luckily, Shane managed to close his door just before the majority of the campers meandered past. He saw a few look in his direction but they seemed to interpret the light being off as a sign that he was already asleep. Thank God it was dark enough for them not to be able to see his silhouette as he stood watching them.

Deciding that he may as well appease the campers, Shane changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. Burying his head in his pillow, the pop-star soon fell asleep.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Jason hummed quietly to himself as he headed towards his room. Flicking off the tv by hand as he passed it, the guitarist pulled himself to a halt when he heard something that sounded out of place. Frowning, he walked in the direction of the sound; Nate's room. Looking in confusedly, his heart ached when he drank in the sight.

Nate was curled up in his bed, facing away from Jason, crying.

Keeping the light off, Jason quietly crept into the room. Nate had been upset lately, and more distant than normal, and Jason didn't know why. It had all started when Shane had left, which didn't make sense. Nate was angry at Shane, so why would he be sad that the diva was gone? Jason didn't understand, but he knew that Nate was suffering.

Barely a metre away now, Jason could see the silvery tears as they ran down his young friend's face. The pillow near Nate was already saturated so Jason could only presume that Nate been crying for a substantial amount of time. He watched as Nate bit back a sob and curled in on himself tighter, arm clenched against his chest as though he was in pain.

Jason raged at his own helplessness. He didn't know what to do; he didn't know how to make Nate better. Hell, he didn't even know what was wrong! The only thing that Jason did know for certain was that Nate shouldn't be left alone. Someone had to be there for him, and right now, that person was going to have to be him.

"Nate?" he called softly.

Nate gave a startled gasp and froze where he was lying. Wide eyes turned at Jason and he had the distinct impression of a deer caught in headlights. Nate looked as though he didn't know whether to run or hide. Jason put an end to that battle by sitting on Nate's bed and putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, thereby condemning him to staying put and not running.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"Nothing," was the answer. There was a sniffle and then Nate added, "You're not going to believe that, are you?"

"Not a chance," he said. "Do you wanna tell me?"

Nate shook his head. "It's…I was gonna say 'nothing' but…seriously Jason, it's nothing really. I'm just being stupid."

"Hey! You're not stupid, don't say that."

"Hmph."

Jason waited but nothing more came his way. Obviously, that was all Nate was intending to say. Sighing, Jason shook his head before saying, "Ok Nate. But when you wanna tell me, I'm here man. Now stop crying and get some sleep, night owl. You know, that is actually the dumbest statement. I mean, _all_ owls come out at night, unless they're Hedwig from Harry Potter, so why would…"

Jason continued rambling until a tiny chuckle came from Nate. Jason's success was short-lived though, as Nate's chuckle was almost instantly cut off by a sob. Feeling well and truly out of his depth now, Jason clambered in under the covers with Nate.

"Jason!" Nate exclaimed as best he could through his tears. "What are you-"

"Shhh!" aforementioned guitarist interrupted. "I'm just keeping you company."

And with that, Jason rolled over until they were lying back to back. There was silence and then he heard a heartfelt 'thanks' come off Nate's lips. He simply smiled and tried to sleep. Before too long, he heard Nate's crying fade away entirely and soon he could hear the heavier breathing of Nate sleeping.

Now that he was alone, – figuratively speaking – Jason allowed himself to feel the anxiety he had been holding in. What did he do now? He supposed that the right thing to do would be to simply trust Nate. Nate was strong, he could handle this. Slumping in disappointment at his conclusion, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Shane was jarred from his sleep by a beeping to his left. Moaning and whining purely out of habit, he reached out with a hand until it came into contact with the offending object – his mobile phone. Shading his eyes against the brightness of the screen, Shane squinted at the message.

_:(_

He frowned and checked who the message was from; Jason. That was a strange message to receive. What was going on? He quickly typed a reply.

_What's up man?_

The answer came within seconds.

_Nate's sad._

That caused Shane to sit up, disbelieving. Nate was never sad. Sure he was often quiet, but sad? Never. Something was seriously wrong. He was about to call Jason when another message came through.

_But he's fine. Going to bed, nighty night!_

Shane's eyes widened when he read the message and he immediately dialled the number but, as he suspected, the phone was off. Jason always turned his phone off when he went to bed. With a frustrated yell, Shane threw his phone across the room. What the heck did Jason mean? Nate's sad but he's fine?

For a moment Shane contemplated calling Nate but realised that maybe that wasn't the best idea. What if Nate was upset about something _he_ had done? It would be just Shane's luck. Call Nate when he was upset and only make the situation worse. Actually, the more Shane thought about it the more he began to agree with himself that he was probably the last person in the world Nate would want to talk to at present.

Cursing his own foolish and selfish behaviour, Shane got out of bed, all thoughts of sleep banished. He had work to do.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

If anyone had been awake to observe, they would have seen the light in Shane's room on until the wee hours of the morning. It would have looked like Shane's cabin had, back when Jason and Nate had been with him. But while that may have been what it would have looked like, it wasn't.

Because Jason and Nate weren't there.

Because Shane had pushed them away.

And now, Shane had to pick up the pieces.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

_A/N: end chapter 2. Please remember that Camp Rock is actually happening during this fic. This chapter probably leaves us just a few days before Connect 3 perform Play My Music. So, some time has passed between chapters 1 and 2. Also, this will now probably have four chapters because, as I said earlier, hardly any of this was in the original so I've had to extend it._

_Please review so I know what you think and what you'd like to see, or what wasn't done so well. Thank you! ^-^_

_DG777_

_You know you're obsessed with Jonas Brothers when you suddenly go, 'oh my God, Jason is a jumbled up version of Jonas!'. Yes, I did that while writing this chapter. -.-'_


	3. Don't Forget To Hold On

**The Process of Metamorphosis**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Camp Rock or the Jonas Brothers. Camp Rock belongs to Disney and the Jonas Brothers belong to themselves.

**Characters:** Shane, Nate and Jason

**Words:** 4, 898

**Author's Notes:** Wow, I am just getting blown away by the reviews you guys are giving me. Thank you so much. Chapter 3 is kind of just pointless friendship, but that's basically what this whole fic is, so hopefully it won't disappoint.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

"_Who says I can't be free,_

_From all of the things that I used to be,_

_Re-write my history,_

_Who says I can't be free?"_

- Who Says by John Mayer

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Nate ended the phone call with something akin to wonder. He was amazed by how much Shane had changed over the past few weeks. The now ex-diva was actually

_excited_ about getting to record with the winner of Final Jam, something that had infuriated him initially. While Nate was sure there was some secondary reason behind this sudden change of heart, he was still impressed with Shane's improvement.

"Can you believe that that's the same Shane we abandoned a few weeks ago?" Nate asked Jason, looking at his band-mate in amazement. "The same guy who complained about needing hair-product just three hours later?"

Jason looked just as disbelieving. "I have no idea man," he answered genuinely. "Whatever it was, it was weird."

"You can say that again," Nate muttered. "He's _definitely_ been getting too much sun."

"Or it could just be the fresh air," his friend suggested, before his expression brightened exponentially. "Or maybe it was all the birds! You know, hearing their little cheerful chirps every morning. It can really relax you. I mean, _really_ relax you."

Nate stared at Jason incredulously for a moment before shaking his head in defeat. Sometimes, Jason was simply a hopeless case. It looked as though today was going to be one of those days. Standing up and placing his guitar on his now vacated chair, Nate turned to Jason.

"I'm gonna grab another drink from the kitchen," he explained, holding up his empty soda bottle. "You want one?"

"No thanks man," came the reply. "I think I'm just gonna lay here and get a tan."

"Good, that's good."

Nate murmured the words so quietly that no one but himself heard them. He really wanted to be alone right now, but it was so hard with Jason by his side all the time. At least this time he had an excuse to get away, _and_ he could be certain of the fact that Jason was not going to disturb him.

Chucking the bottle in the trashcan and grabbing another from the fridge for good measure, Nate headed up the stairs to his room. They had returned to their house only a few days ago and it felt good to be back. Sure, staying in hotels was fun but there was nothing like that feeling of walking back into the Connect 3 house. It felt like coming home.

Mostly.

Now though, it felt as though everything was covered in a grey haze. Sighing, Nate flopped onto his bed dejectedly. The ice-cold glass of his soda against his cheek was heavenly but he brushed aside the observation. His mind was already in the process of replaying the conversation they'd just had with Shane. Nate was astounded; that was the truth. While he'd hoped Camp Rock would do Shane some good, he had never been brave enough to imagine that it would actually work. And now all the evidence was right there in front of him. Shane was a changed man.

Shane was a changed man. But Nate wasn't.

Hugging his pillow tightly, he wondered if he himself had made any progress over the past few weeks. Nate had been trying hard, trying to not be so controlling, trying not to deal with every little issue that came up, but he was struggling. He couldn't _not_ do it. And he couldn't get rid of the mask of perfection he'd fabricated! He screamed in frustration, the pillow muffling the sound.

Nate had wanted a fresh start for Connect 3. Jason would stay the same because he was perfect just the way he was. The plan had been for Shane to return to normal. And then Shane had made it clear that Nate needed to make some changes to. For the sake of the band, Nate had tried to comply. But all the effort and insecurity was starting to tear him apart, on the inside and the outside.

Still, Nate hoped he'd made enough improvement by Saturday for Shane to notice. Maybe then Shane wouldn't hate him. At the very least, maybe the pop-star might be able to put up with him.

Because, in the end, that was all Nate wanted; Shane's acceptance.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Shane paced around his cabin, his notebook held out in front of him. A pen was in his hand and he tapped it against the book rhythmically. He allowed himself a few odd bopping steps as he ran the lyrics against the tune. A satisfied grin spread over his face; this song was going to rock! Now all he had to do was send it through to the guys.

At the thought of Jason and Nate, Shane cast his mind back to their phone call. As far as he could recall, Nate hadn't seemed to be sad at all. In fact, he had seemed to be his normal self. And, for that matter, Jason had too. If something had been up, Nate may have been able to hide it, but there was no way Jason could have. That just left Shane in a state of confusion.

Jason had certainly _seemed_ serious when he had messaged Shane a few nights ago. And the hasty switching off of the phone only made it more obvious that Jason didn't want to talk about it; which either meant that Jason was afraid he'd be breaking Nate's trust by telling Shane about what had happened _or_ that he, Shane, was the reason behind Nate's pain. And there lay the problem. Shane was literally left in the dark. He had no idea what was going on, which option to lean towards.

Perhaps it had just been a passing thing. Perhaps something had simply upset Nate that day. Or maybe he'd just had a sad moment. After all, hadn't Jason himself sent a text saying that Nate was fine? Shane shook his head at that. No, Jason had probably only sent that message to stop Shane from worrying.

"You always have to make things complicated, don't you Nate?" Shane asked of no one in particular.

Flipping to a different page in his notebook, he soon came across a page covered with a smattering of chords and incomplete lyrics. This was the song he needed to work on. Shane knew that he wasn't any good at speeches or fancy words, so he was writing something for Nate. Hopefully Nate would understand the apology within the song.

But before Nate could do that, Shane would have to finish the song. Sitting down, Shane determinedly told himself that he would not move from this spot until he had least completed either the verse or the chorus, preferably both. Because, in retrospect, it wouldn't be too long before Nate actually arrived in person and Shane _had_ to have something done by then.

It was his job. As a 'brother'.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Jason was practically hopping with excitement when he and Nate climbed out of the limo that had brought them to Camp Rock. He had loved camp and the environment surrounding it. He was glad to be back. Glancing sideways at Nate, Jason wondered if his younger band-mate thought the same. Nate had been quiet the whole trip, but then, Nate was often quiet. And now, he looked neither joyful nor despondent.

"Jason! Nate!"

Shane's voice rang out across the crisp morning air and Jason looked up to see their front-man jogging over from his cabin. Shane had a warm smile on his face, as though he was legitimately happy to see them. Jason thought it made for a nice change. A grumpy Shane was a boring one.

"You guys learnt the new song?" Shane asked the moment he reached them, seemingly bursting with energy. "Let's head down to the cabin and we can rehearse. I really hope you guys liked it, even though it's different. Come on!"

Shane promptly spun a one-eighty and headed off in the direction he had come. Jason went to bound after Shane when he caught the slightest pause from Nate. However, when he turned to face Nate fully, the other guitarist was already moving, though there was something decidedly pensive in his gaze. Clearly, something was still bothering Nate. And Jason still didn't know what it was.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Shane kicked the ground as he walked, anger and shame radiating off of him. He couldn't believe that Mitchie had been lying to him all summer. Just when he thought he'd found someone outside of Connect 3 who knew how he felt, it had all been a lie. Shane picked up a stick lying on the ground nearby and hurled it in the general direction of lake. Typical, typical life!

Ignoring the whispers and mutterings that came from the surrounding campers, Shane stomped up the stairs and wrenched open the door to his cabin. The cabin was a lush orange in the light of the setting sun, but the beauty was wasted on Shane. He felt as if he was out in a raging sea and someone had just torn away his life-jacket, his link to a normal life.

Okay, maybe that was a bit melodramatic, but hey, he was a songwriter; he had the right to over-exaggerate. That was the key to writing amazing songs.

"You okay?"

The voice startled Shane and he visibly jumped when he caught sight of Jason. He had actually forgotten that aforementioned guitarist and Nate would be staying the night, before heading home in the morning. Jason was looking at Shane worriedly. Obviously he had missed the whole scene after the Beach Jam.

"Yeah," Shane answered distractedly. "I'm fine."

"Oh, okay then."

Jason's tone showed that he didn't believe a word Shane had said, but it seemed as though Jason had something else on his mind as he kept looking at the door anxiously. Shane quickly picked up on the gesture.

"What's up Jason?" he asked, slumping down onto his bed.

"Nate ran off."

"_What?_" Shane was back up so speedily that he nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Whoa man," Jason said, holding his hands up. "There's no need to go so crazy."

"Jason," interjected Shane. "What happened?"

Jason shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. He was in the bathroom a really, really long time and then, next thing I know, Nate threw open the door and walked out really fast. I tried to stop him but he said he was fine. But Shane," Jason stressed, concern written across his features, "Nate looked terrible. Like he was about to cry or something."

"When was this?" Shane asked, becoming more unnerved with each word Jason said. Nate never acted like this; never.

"Um, maybe like, five minutes ago?" his friend answered unconfidently. "I didn't know whether to go after him or not. I mean…" Jason trailed off, not knowing what he thought. He looked over, up at Shane. "But Nate's going to be okay, isn't he Shane?"

Shane nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I'm gonna go find him. You stay here Jason."

"But why?" Jason protested, a pained tone in his voice.

"Because…" the pop-star paused before soldiering on. "Because this is my fault. I don't know what's going on, but I think it has something to do with me. Which means, it's my job to make it right."

He could be depressed about Mitchie later. He could whinge and moan all he wanted, but only when the time was right. Right now, the most important thing was Nate. Something was seriously wrong, and Shane couldn't afford to be selfish while his friend suffered.

Shane made a bee-line for the door and then suddenly reversed, reaching down and picking up his acoustic from next to his bed, slinging it over his shoulder hastily.

"You're gonna sing him back?" Jason inquired, not understanding.

"No," Shane replied, shaking his head. "But it might be useful."

And without further explanation he all but flew out the door, letting the door crash shut. Feet following an engraved path, he dashed down to the lake. Elongated shadows distorted his surroundings and anyone else would have slowed down, but this was Shane Gray, and he never did anything slowly. Plus, he trusted his feet. They knew were they were going.

Pulling up once he hit the lake shore, Shane did a quick cursory glance and saw no sign of Nate. Squinting over to his left, Shane managed to spot a figure sitting on the pier, almost completely obscured by the on-coming darkness. Shane picked his way closer, not wanting to create too much noise and cause Nate to disappear. The closer he got, the more obvious Nate's shaking shoulders became. This just kept on getting worse.

Reaching the pier swiftly but silently, Shane jumped up onto the wood. Nate visibly jumped at the sound and spun around. When he saw Shane, the tension in his frame was painfully obvious. The young guitarist looked as though he wanted to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. He quickly seemed to accept the inevitable and returned to his original position, letting Shane do what he wanted.

Shane approached carefully and seated himself diagonally opposite from Nate. The tears on his cheeks were obvious and the hitching breath told Shane that Nate was still fighting for control. Shane had never seen Nate like this; so vulnerable, so emotionally raw, so defeated.

"Nate?" he asked gently. The young man looked up at his soft tone, startled. "What's wrong?"

Nate shook his head. "It's nothing Shane, I'm fine."

"No way," Shane said crisply. "That didn't work on Jason and it's not gonna work on me."

Silence.

"Nate," he pleaded. "I just wanna help. And I can't do that if you won't give me anything. Dude, just anything will do."

More silence.

"Plea-"

"_I'm sorry!"_ Nate suddenly screamed, launching himself to his feet.

Shane was about to demand what the hell he was sorry about when Nate burst into tears again, hands covering his face, knees starting to buckle. Shane leapt up and carefully guided Nate back to the wooden platform, holding him tightly. Nate buried his head into Shane's shoulder and one hand fisted itself in his shirt. Shane was dumbfounded, not knowing what could have caused this reaction from his band-mate.

"…ry that I couldn't change."

With a start, Shane realised that Nate was talking, voice hoarse amongst his sobs. Once Nate had already started though, Shane thought that maybe it would be best to simply let him continue, tell him everything, because then he would have a better understanding of what he was dealing with.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't change," Nate repeated softly. "I tried Shane…I really tried. I tried so hard to…be different. I didn't want to be so…full of it all the time, I really…did but it was too hard. I tried not to be perfect…Shane, I swear, but I couldn't stop…Shane, I couldn't do anything! I'm so useless."

'_Oh God,'_ Shane suddenly realised. _'He took everything I said to heart.'_

"And being perfect Shane, it doesn't work for me anymore…and I don't know what to do about it. And then you weren't there…because I'd been selfish and gotten rid of you and then…I went ahead and got Jason worried. Then you called on the phone and you sounded…so different, so much like the old Shane…and it hurt. I mean, how come you were able to change and…I'm still stuck in the same old place? And now you're gonna hate me, because…I'm still too perfect and I'm just going to keep annoying you and-"

"_Stop."_

Nate froze immediately. Shane couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could he, Shane, have done so much damage to one of his best friends? How could he have driven Nate to such a low point? Caused the boy to shred himself apart from the inside out? He really had been a monster.

"I'm sorry," Nate apologised, misinterpreting Shane's order as Shane being tired of his 'whining'.

"No Nate," Shane said forcefully. "I don't want to hear you say sorry to me again. You shouldn't even be apologising. _I'm_ the one who made all the mistakes, not you. All those things I said about you Nate, they couldn't be more wrong. You don't need to change; you _didn't_. It was me…but I didn't realise."

Nate shook his head stubbornly. "But you said them. And you wouldn't have said them unless you really did think they were true, even if only deep down."

Shane growled angrily. "I refuse to believe that. Everything I said to you was a lie. I could never – _never_ – hate you. I couldn't see you Nate, I couldn't see how much good you were doing, how much you cared for everyone, because all I could see was myself. You helped me Nate; you got rid of my blinkers. You showed me what to do. I could never hate you; I don't think _anyone _can hate you."

Shane lightly pushed Nate away, ruffling his hair teasingly. Nate gave him a watery smile and wiped his tears off with a sleeve. In the darkness, Shane could barely make out the faint blush across Nate's cheeks. Embarrassed by intense pain and insecurity he had caused, Shane gingerly pulled his acoustic onto his lap.

"I wrote something," he said quietly, catching Nate's attention. "Can I run it by you?"

Nate nodded. He rubbed his fists in his eyes to clear away any remaining signs of crying and gave Shane his full attention; Nate was always drawn to music. A small smile crept onto Shane's face. At least he hadn't destroyed _that_ part of Nate. And, hopefully, this song would help put some of the pieces back together. Sliding his hand to the correct chord, Shane started playing.

"_Filled with sorrow, filled with pain,_

_Knowing that I am to blame,_

_For leaving your heart out in the rain;_

_I know you're gonna walk away,_

_Leave me with a price to pay,_

_Before you go, I wanted to say;_

_That I'm sorry,_

_For breaking all the promises_

_That I wasn't around to keep;_

_It's on me,_

_This time is the last time_

_I will ever beg you to stay,_

_But you're already on your way."_

Shane strummed the last chord and looked up at Nate. Nate was staring at him with a shy grin on his face and eyes brimming with unshed tears again.

"I mean it Nate," Shane whispered, lowering his eyes. "I'm sorry."

The singer didn't know what else to say but, luckily, he didn't have to say anything more as Nate took the liberty of throwing his arms around him. Shane grinned at his friend, returning the gesture. Nate's body shook a few times and Shane was afraid he was going to break-down again, but seconds later Nate pulled away with a matching grin on his face.

"I forgive you," Nate said, that serious expression on his face.

Shane never thought he'd be glad to see that expression, but here he was, absolutely elated. Still, no way was he getting off that easily.

"Not that simple Nate," Shane said with a shake of his head. Nate frowned at him, confused. "I'm not gonna let myself get off that easily. I yell at you, I demoralise you, I shove you, and you forgive me because I wrote you a song? No way, even though it was a pretty sweet song. But seriously, don't forgive me yet. Give me a chance to make it up to you. To be the 'old Shane' again. Deal?"

Nate looked at Shane incredulously, like he was some kind of deranged mad-man. Maybe he was. Then a little spark flickered in his dark eyes and Nate retorted; "Fine, you've got yourself a deal. But you're on three month probation, _and_ a six-month good behaviour parole."

Shane erupted into laughter and nodded, holding out a hand, which Nate shook firmly. It felt so good to have Nate back on his side. At least he hadn't pushed Jason away too. What would he have done if he had lost both of them? Shane shuddered at the thought.

"Thanks man," Shane said genuinely, pushing himself to his feet.

Nate shook his head in defeat, standing up as well. "You're impossible. You're the one making all the changes, _I_ should be thanking you for making the effort."

"Dude, I was the jerk."

"That's true."

Shane pouted at that – even though he _did_ deserve it. Glancing around slyly, Shane positively beamed before turning back to Nate, a neutral expression on his face.

"Hey Nate," he started casually. "Did you and Jason bring a change of clothes?"

"Yeah," came the confused answer. "Of course we did. Why do you…NO!"

A fraction too slow, Nate realised what Shane's plan was. He shied to one side but Shane was quicker, grabbing one of Nate's arms and tugging harshly. As Nate's footing gave, Shane threw the guitarist into the lake. There was a startled yell and then a loud splash as Nate crashed into the water. He came up spluttering but Shane was already bomb-diving in after him. Nate gave another yelp as he was totally drenched by Shane's dive.

Shane came up out of the water, laughing loudly. Nate gave him a disgruntled look before flicking water in Shane's general direction. Shane defended himself as best he could before launching a counter-attack that left Nate floundering.

"What's going on?"

Both boys looked back at the pier at the sound of Jason's voice. He had come down to their old hang-out, hoping to find Shane and Nate. But even he had to admit that he hadn't expected to find them swimming in the lake.

"Well," Shane started dramatically. "I was on my way back to the cabin when Nate pushed me in." Sticking out his tongue at Nate, he kicked his way over to the pier and held up a hand. "Help me out?" he asked Jason, all innocence.

"Jason, don't!" Nate called, realising Shane's scheme. But he was too late.

As Jason went to heave Shane out, Shane pulled back as hard as he could, causing Jason to topple in as well. Jason came up with all the grace of a cat getting a bath. Shane, and even Nate, had to laugh at the sight. Imagining what he must look like, Jason started laughing too. He splashed Shane for good measure, which Shane just had to retaliate.

Before long, it was a full-on war, every man for himself. All three of them splashed, ducked and yelled as they tried to get the best of their fellow Connect 3 members. Who was winning was impossible to determine but they kept on fighting valiantly, completely forgetting the setting they were in. They were in mid hand-to-hand combat when a fourth voice interrupted.

"Swimming in the lake is not allowed after lights out. Didn't I tell you that enough times when you were last here?"

Stopping instantly, the boys broke apart, Shane reaching for Nate as Nate wasn't the best swimmer and was already becoming sluggish with his strokes. Nate sent him a grateful smile as Shane supported him, before turning and looking up at the pier. Shane followed his gaze and found himself face-to-face with his Uncle Brown.

"Sorry Uncle Brown," Shane said, though the smile on his face showed that he was anything but.

"You three, out now," Brown ordered. "The whole camp heard the racket and are probably wondering who the hell is drowning down here."

A little sheepishly, the boys swam to ladder and clambered up; first Nate, then Jason, and finally Shane. They stood before Brown in a line, feet shuffling on the ground. They had been caught in the lake after hours plenty of times during their summer here and they all knew what was coming: punishment. That was, if Brown could even punish them – after all, they weren't campers.

"We're sorry Camp Director Brown," Jason mumbled, rubbing his neck nervously.

"Who was the first in the lake?" Brown asked, looking between the three of them.

"I was," Nate murmured after a moment.

"But only because I threw him in," Shane protested. "Nate didn't really get a choice. And I pulled Jason in too. If anyone's going to get in trouble, it should be me. I was the only one to actually jump in…unaided."

Jason and Nate looked at him with slightly widened eyes, apparently impressed that he was taking the blame for the first time in a long time. Shane flushed, ashamed that this simple action surprised them both so much.

"Well, that's a very mature way of looking at it Shane," Brown remarked. "But-"

"No buts," Shane quoted, earning sniggers from his friends. His uncle merely glared.

"_However_, neither Jason nor Nate got out after you pushed them in. Unless that tremendous noise you were making was you fighting off both boys as they tried to make their escape?"

No one had anything to say to that.

"I didn't think so," Brown remarked. "But because I'm so generous, I'm going to let you off with a warning this time. Or, I'm going to let Jason and Nate off. You, Shane, have been here all summer and are well versed in camp rules. Now, boys, go away, shower and get to bed."

Puzzled but grateful, they quickly slipped past Brown only to him call after them.

"Jason and Nate, the shower up in my cabin has warm water. You two use that one. Shane, it's the cold water one in your cabin for you."

"But-"

"Again with the buts," Brown countered, causing them all to groan as memories came back of the numerous times they'd heard that statement. "Now, no complaints. Hop to it."

As one, they trooped back up to their shared cabin, dutifully ignoring all the other campers that stared out at them. Clearly they had been far louder than they'd realised. Nate rubbed his neck self-consciously and was the first to duck into the cabin.

"Nothing to see here!" Shane yelled to everyone as he entered, lowering all the blinds. Once inside, he turned to Jason and Nate. "I can't believe this! I'm gonna freeze!"

"Already got it figured out man," Nate answered easily, crouched on the floor and already pulling clean, dry pajamas from his bag.

"You got a plan Nate?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," he said with a grin, which almost immediately changed to a frown. "I don't think Shane should be punished. We all joined in."

"And it was so much fun!" Jason agreed. "We should so do it again!"

"Anyway," Shane said, returning the conversation to its original topic. "What's the plan?"

"My plan is this," Nate explained. "Brown's probably going to be busy getting campers back to bed and will also be giving us some privacy while we use his cabin. So, we all go up to Brown's cabin. We're already soaked, and our clothes are soaked so what we do is let Jason have the first shower. He gets changed and hangs around in the cabin distracting Brown."

"Wait, how do I do that?" Jason interrupted.

"I don't know," Nate said with a shrug. "Tell him all about birdhouses you want, or something."

Jason's eyes lit up. "I can do that."

"And the rest of the plan?" Shane urged. "I'm really starting to get cold now." He wasn't lying, he was starting to shake.

Nate nodded his apology. "Then Shane and I use the shower. I'll have one and leave it running. While I get changed, Shane can have his. Then Shane gets changed and then all Jason and I have to do is sneak you out while Brown isn't looking. He'll never know."

"I like it!" Jason cheered, looking extremely pleased about being given the opportunity to talk about birds.

"I'm in," Shane declared, flashing them his devil-may-care grin.

Nate gave a proud smirk. "Let's do this."

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

It was needless to say that the plan didn't work out entirely as they had envisioned. Upon being put on the spot, Jason couldn't think of anything to say and had stood there blankly for a few minutes before finally launching into a rapid-fire speech. Nate had forgotten his towel and so had to share with Shane, meaning that neither of them were exactly dry when they'd put on their pajamas.

And while they had been able to sneak Shane out successfully, Brown had told them to leave all their wet clothes in a pile so they could be hung out later. Unthinkingly, they had agreed only to have Nate remember that he also had Shane's clothes so Shane could escape more easily. While they'd tried to hide Shane's clothes amongst their own, Brown had seen them and recognised them.

Instantly, he figured out their game and leapt to the door, bellowing for Shane. Shane, who had been crouching at the bottom of the cabin steps, took off pelting into the night. Jason and Nate had unceremoniously bustled past Brown and dashed after Shane, vanishing into the darkness. Brown shook his head with a disbelieving smile and closed the door. It was good to see those three getting on so well again.

Said three raced to their cabin and hurried inside, locking the door behind them, lest Brown follow them. Panting, they all collapsed onto the floor. Looking at each other in the near-pitch black, they all started laughing uncontrollably.

Yes, this was what Connect 3 was all about.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

_A/N: sorry about the delay between this chapter and the last. I've been a bit busy. Hope this chapter is worth your wait! XP Follow this link to see what I've been up to (yes, they're JONAS shoes ^-^):_

http :/ deathgod777 . deviantart .com/ art/ JONAS- shoes- 150675880_ (remove spaces)_

_I think there's only one more chapter left on this, so I hope to have that done as soon as possible. Also, reviews are amazing, and it would be nice to get your honest opinion on the chapter._

_DG777_


	4. We Turned Out Fine

**The Process of Metamorphosis**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of Camp Rock or the Jonas Brothers. Camp Rock belongs to Disney and the Jonas Brothers belong to themselves.

**Characters:** Shane, Nate and Jason

**Words:** 4, 185

**Author's Notes:** Well, you have made it to the final chapter. I will admit that I do actually like this little fic of mine, and my objective has been accomplished if you enjoy it too. This chapter is mainly a bunch of random scenes thrown together to round everything up. Hope you enjoy!

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

"_Cause I'm not taking the easy way out;_

_I'm not wrapping this in ribbon,_

_Shouldn't have to give a reason why."_

- No Surprise by Daughtry

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

As normal, Connect 3 had risen early the following morning. True all the boys loved nothing more than to sleep in, but they were rarely given that luxury. But today was something different. While it was usually their record label that had them crawling up at all sorts of odds hours, today it was of their own initiative that they were greeting the day so early.

Despite Shane's comments that he couldn't leave camp, Nate was keen to get back to the studio and do as much on 'Play My Music' as possible without a lead vocalist. Jason was thrilled and Shane had admitted that the idea was a good one. While he would miss Jason and Nate, getting this new song done was vital to the future of the band; they all understood that – even Jason.

But that had been hours ago. Both guitarists had said their good-byes and were packed into the limo before any of the campers were even out of bed. The surroundings flew passed as they sped ever closer to their destination: the recording studio at the Connect 3 house. So they had a studio in their house, it wasn't that hard to believe, was it?

Nate had spent the majority of the journey staring pensively out the window, but now he turned to Jason.

"Hey Jason," he called softly, catching his band-mate's attention. "I was thinking…thinking about writing a song."

Jason looked at him in confusion. "You wanna write a song? Dude, that's Shane's job. He writes _all_ our songs." The way Jason said it made it sound so obvious.

Nate gave a meek little shrug, looking at the floor. "I know, but I thought, it might be nice for us to something for him. And," he continued, giving Jason a shy grin, "I figured that if we worked together, and used Shane's new sound, we could come up with something really good."

His friend's eyes widened. "You mean, _we_ could write the next number one hit?"

A small chuckle escaped Nate. "Yeah, I guess so."

"That is so awesome!" Jason exclaimed. "I can't believe that I'm gonna help write Connect 3's next best selling single. Oh yeah!"

"Don't get too excited," came the deadpan answer. "Like you said, we aren't song-writers. It's gonna take effort, and even then, we might not be able to come up with anything."

"Oh you have nothing to worry about. I can always think of plenty to write about."

"Yeah," Nate said stoically. "That's what worries me."

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Shane practically stormed his way out of his hip-hop dance class. If he had to look at that Mitchie girl one more time…! Snarling in frustration, Shane turned on his heel and made for the lake, as opposed to the direction he had originally been taking, which would have led him back to his cabin.

"_It's not all about your image. None of it means anything if people don't see who you really are. And your music has to be who you really are, it's gotta show how you feel…or it doesn't mean anything."_

And he meant it. Maybe a few weeks ago, Shane would have argued that image was everything, but his own transformation, coupled with Mitchie's strive for a bigger image, had shown him how wrong he had been. Music was who he was. Music was his soul, his life, his reason for being. And if it didn't show who he was, who he _really_ was, then there was no point. All the fame, all the 'friends', all the awards, everything, would amount to nothing.

Reaching the pier finally, Shane dropped down into a slumped sitting position. If he was honest, the singer didn't know what he was feeling. Sighing despondently, he pulled his phone from his back pocket. His fingers typed in the number automatically.

Pressing the phone to his ear, Shane was rewarded by hearing the sound of ringing followed by a short click as someone answered.

"Hello?"

Shane rolled his eyes. "Your phone has called ID. Why don't you ever use it?"

There came a short laugh. "I'll take that as a hello. How you going, man?"

"What do you think?"

"Not that good huh? Hang on." There was a shuffling noise and Shane could only assume that the phone was being pressed against a shoulder. "Hey Jason, I'm gonna take this call upstairs!"

A yell of affirmation came and then Nate was back on the line. Shane could hear Nate walking up the stairs that led to his room. With a groan of appreciation, Nate flopped back onto his bed.

"Enjoying yourself?" Shane asked. "I'm glad you have all day."

"And I'm sure you're rushing between classes right now," Nate shot back sarcastically, humour evident through his tone. "But seriously man, what's up? You don't usually call like this."

Shane sighed heavily. "I know…I just…Nate, I don't know what to do."

He could hear Nate shifting position. "Don't know what to do about what? Is this about that Hot Tunes China girl? Millie?"

"Mitchie," Shane corrected absently. He had relayed the entire situation to Nate over the phone a few days ago, so his band-mate understood where he was coming from.

"What happened?" Nate inquired, starting to have a concerned edge to his voice.

The singer rubbed a hand across his face. "I may have had a go at her."

"You had a go at her?" There was no hiding the accusing tone in his words. "Shane, please tell me you didn't do it somewhere in public."

Shane coughed awkwardly. "Well…"

Nate groaned. "Oh no."

"I mean, I didn't actually say it to her…I mean, she was in the room and sure, what I said may have been aimed at her, but everyone interpreted it their own way."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing really. Really. Just some stuff about music and how it has to reflect you."

There was a pause, a sign that Nate was deep in thought. "This isn't really about Mitchie, is it Shane? This couldn't possibly have anything to do with you, could it?"

Shane had to laugh; Nate could always see through him. "Yeah, I already thought about it. I just…I don't know how I feel."

"Used?" Nate offered. From the rustling sound, Shane guessed that Nate had just run a hand through his hair. "What Mitchie did to you was downright cruel. And what made it even worse was the fact that you were being so honest, and you made it so clear that you _were_ being honest. The least she could have done was not elaborated on her lies. I'm so sorry Shane."

"Hey," Shane cut off, "what did I tell you about saying sorry to me? I don't wanna hear you saying it."

The guitarist chuckled. "Okay, my bad, man. But Shane, try and look at it from Mitchie's point of view. She was coming into camp underprivileged and unpopular, and all she wanted was to fit in. The only way she could think of to be accepted was to make up details about who she was."

Shane growled and pouted alternatively, but his brain was slowly chewing through Nate's words.

"Shane," Nate pleaded. "You know how hard camp can be to people who are not what everyone else expects."

Whatever retort was on Shane's lips died instantly. He remembered how much abuse Nate had gone through in the early days of Camp Rock because of his age; Nate had been younger than fellow campers by at least two years. Shane felt a painful tug in his heart at the memories. Nate had been so shattered, ready to leave even, when he had found a friend in Shane, and then Jason.

"…ane? You still there?" Nate called quietly.

"I'm here," he replied in the same soft tone.

"Are you okay?"

"Would you stop worrying?" Shane asked jokingly. "I got it."

"Got what?" Nate sounded genuinely confused.

"I know what I have to do. I'm just gonna let this whole thing with Mitchie blow over, give her a second chance if she asks for it and concentrate my attention on what's really important," he explained confidently.

"And what is really important?"

The question was rhetorical and Shane could clearly visualise the grin that Nate was wearing. Nate knew that there was an ulterior motive for him wanting to stay at camp but said guitarist was well aware that Shane would keep him and Jason in suspense for as long as possible. Shane gave a chuckle and a smile worked its way onto his face. Pushing himself up off the pier, Shane looked back up at the cabins with a satisfied look. He could make this work.

"I'll see you and Jason at Final Jam, okay?"

"Sure thing," Nate replied. "See you then dude. Have fun!"

Shane ended the call, placing the phone in his back pocket. Adjusting his shirt, the pop-star headed back up to his cabin with a little extra spring in his step. It felt good to be friends with Nate again. No matter how bad things got, Nate and Jason could always make it better; to have every member of Connect 3 on his side was incredible.

He outright beamed. It felt fantastic to be the old Shane again.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Final Jam was mere hours away and the members of Connect 3 were constantly switching between relaxed and pumped. They were excited about tonight and the opportunities it offered, but they also realised that the contest was still hours away and it wouldn't do them any good to be hyped up for hours on end. All that would achieve would be a very tired Shane, Jason and Nate.

As it was, they were chilling in Shane's cabin. Well, Jason and Nate were; Shane had ducked out moments ago with a lame excuse of needing some air. Still, they had been content to let him go. Jason was happy watching birds through the windows and Nate had liberated Shane's bed the moment aforementioned diva had left it. His eyes were closed now and his sole focus was his breathing; in, out, in, out. It was relaxing.

There was a sudden _thok_ and the cabin door swung open. Nate opened one eye lazily and grinned when he caught sight of what was in Shane's hands. Then he rolled his eyes – he would never hear the end of this.

"Jason?" Shane beckoned.

Jason reluctantly tore his gaze away from a pair of sparrows, looking slightly upset at being disturbed. That changed immediately though when he saw what Shane was holding.

"A birdhouse!" he all but yelled. Nate placed his hands over his ears as Jason continued. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Shane! This is so awesome! It looks amazing. I can't believe you actually made me a birdhouse dude. Dude, I love you!"

Jason then flung his arms around Shane and squeezed him. Shane would have chuckled except that no air was able to get into his lungs. Instead, he offered the best smile he could while suffering from oxygen deprivation and held out the object that created such euphoria in his friend.

Jason took the birdhouse with the utmost reverence, as though it was made of glass. His hands cupped the wood delicately and he spun it back and forth, looking at the birdhouse from every possible angle. A massive grin was plastered across his face and his eyes were dancing with pleasure and gratitude. His mouth opened and closed a few times but, for once, words seemed to escape him.

Shane, after watching Jason for a few moments, shook his head with a smile and joined Nate on the bed, nudging the guitarist over so they both fitted comfortably. Shane placed his hands behind his head and looked across to Nate. Nate was gazing at Jason was an expression that was a perfect mix of contentedness and horror. Feeling Shane's eyes on him, Nate turned to his friend and gave him a grin.

"Think he likes it?" Shane whispered, leaning closer.

"Definitely," Nate answered, mock grumpiness seeping in to his words. "Why'd you have to make that dude? It's all he's going to talk about. He already talks about birds more than he should."

Shane knuckled Nate's head jokingly. "Come on Nate, he deserves it."

Nate's expression was priceless and Shane allowed himself a snort of laughter. He removed his hand from Nate's head and returned it to his own.

"Shane, this is the best present you have ever given me," Jason rambled on. Suddenly he froze and then quickly, albeit extremely carefully, put the birdhouse down. "I know, I can give you a present in return!"

Shane shifted uneasily, going on guard. Who knew what Jason would give him as thanks? Shane didn't know if he was game enough to find out.

"Come on Nate," Jason called, startling Shane.

Nate himself seemed confused for a moment before realisation came over him. He then nodded and sat up, leaning over and pulling up his backpack, rummaging through it.

"What are you guys doing?" Shane asked, bemused.

"Oh have we got a surprise for you!" Jason declared with a wide smile. "It was actually Nate's idea, but I helped too."

Shane turned to his younger band-mate and noticed a light blush covering his cheeks. Nate purposefully avoided eye contact and instead got up, a pick from his bag now in his hand. As he picked up his guitar and slung it on, Nate explained.

"You see Shane, we were so impressed by what you did for us that we decided we'd do something for you. And we really liked the new sound you created so we thought that…well…"

"We'd write something too!" Jason finished, a proud expression on his face.

"You guys wrote a song?" Shane clarified, dumbfounded. He then scurried into a sitting position. "You have to show me."

"That's what we're doing," Nate muttered.

Jason nodded and pulled his own guitar on. "Nate did all the lyrics and I helped with some of the chords. The whole thing was really Nate. He wrote it for you, and about you."

"You wrote it for me? And about me; what does that mean?"

Nate mumbled something incoherently and then shook himself, seemingly shaking off his nervousness. When his eyes next met Shane's, they were brimming with confidence and purposefulness. Then, without further delays, he started playing. The moment the first notes left the guitar, Shane was entranced – the sound was incredible.

"_I was sitting at home_

_Watching tv all alone_

_I'm so tired of routines_

_The day goes on and on_

_So I pick up the phone_

_Call everyone I know_

_I say there's gonna be a party_

_Hit the music here we go, yeah"_

Shane couldn't believe it. This was amazing music, and not to mention great lyrics, – most of which had him chuckling to himself – and it was coming from Jason and Nate, two people who had never really mentioned any interest in being too involved in the writing process. He re-tuned his focus though as both his fellow band mates launched into the chorus.

"_You gotta live to party_

_Bust your move_

_Everybody's in the groove_

_Tell the dj to play my song_

_Are you ready to rock and roll?_

_Live to party!"_

With one last, definitive strum, the guitarists stopped, gazing at Shane expectantly. Shane didn't know what to say but he hoped the dopey grin on his face was enough – it seemed to be. He was blown away by the effort his friends had obviously put in and the song itself was definitely nothing to be ashamed of.

"We didn't really know where to go from there," Nate admitted, looking slightly guilty. "But I figured that you'd know what to do with it."

"Dude, that song's awesome!" Shane exclaimed. "You two are so unbelievable. That's definitely going on the new album."

"Only if yours does too," Nate protested, though Shane merely nodded eagerly.

"Alright!" Jason cheered, slinging an arm around Shane. "I helped write a song! And it's going on the album. This is gonna be the best album ever. And with my new birdhouse, I am the happiest man alive."

And, with a contented sigh, Jason flopped back onto Shane's bed, guitar thudding against his chest in a way that sounded painful. While both Nate and Shane winced, Jason didn't seem to mind at all, apparently miles away, a goofy look in his face. Nate looked at his fellow guitarist in disbelief before turning away and _putting_ his guitar down.

"Now I almost wish Unc had given us a chance to perform tonight," Shane moaned. "That song would've been awesome to do." Nate went to object but Shane went on without noticing. "Still, I guess it's not about us tonight. And anyway, it'd be pretty hard to finish it in…" he looked at his watch, "…two hours."

Nate had been watching Shane with pride until the ex-diva had reminded him how much time there was until Final Jam. He paled. Was there really only two hours left? He ignored the shaky feeling in his chest and tried to pretend it didn't exist. Shane turned to him and instantly seemed to notice something was amiss.

"Nate?" Shane asked, stepping hurriedly to his side. "What's up?"

"I…I don't know if I can do this Shane," he admitted, eyes finding the floor in shame.

"Can't do what?"

"Judge Final Jam," Nate clarified. "I mean, what if I make the wrong choice? Whoever wins this, they'll probably on to become famous just like us. How do I know if I'm picking the right person? I don't know if I can decide someone's future like that."

Shane went to respond but Jason cut him off. "Dude, that's why Director Brown invited all of us; so we all have to choose the same person. And between the three of us, it'll be a piece of cake."

"Jason's right," Shane agreed, placing a hand on Nate's shoulder. "We're all in this together, and you just have to trust yourself. And you never know," Shane added cheekily, "maybe all the acts except one will be total disasters!"

"Shane!" Nate scolded amidst his laughter, which was set off by Shane's own infectious chuckles.

"What if no one's good?" Jason mused and then smacked his forehead. "Oh wait, that can't be, because Shane's mystery girl will be there!"

Shane flushed as both boys laughed at his expression. Nate shot him a smug look before commenting, "Yeah Shane, you can't just vote for her because you're crushing on her voice. She actually has to be good."

"I know," Shane growled, grabbing Nate and throwing him onto his bed, pinning him down and beginning to tickle him mercilessly.

"Shane!" Nate gasped, squirming underneath him.

At the sound of his name, Shane ceased his actions and stood up, flashing Nate a smile. Nate huffed and rolled his eyes, but Shane knew he wasn't angry, though he did maybe look a little relieved. Shane gave his friend a reassuring look. Nate didn't really like to be touched. Physical contact wasn't something Nate was too comfortable with; it wasn't because of abuse or anything, it was just Nate's personality. And Shane respected that, he knew not to push Nate too far.

"Pulled yourself together now?" Shane asked – while the tone was joking, the question was serious.

Nate saw the seriousness immediately and nodded curtly. "I'm good," he replied, clambering back to his feet.

"Group hug!" Jason announced, bounding off the bed and pulling them both in fiercely.

Shane sighed and shook his head at Jason's solution to everything, though he wasn't really protesting. It took all his self-control not to jump when he felt another arm wrap around his back. Looking down, he saw Nate with his eyes closed, head resting against Jason's chest and arms latched onto both of them. Shane felt an elated smile appear on his face; never before had Nate joined in on a group hug.

Barely able to withhold his disbelief, Shane glanced up at Jason and saw his joyous expression mirrored there. They grinned at each other and then Shane returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around his band-mates. Nate smiled softly when he felt the contact and Shane didn't think that anything could be more perfect than that moment.

Him, Jason, and Nate, standing together as Connect 3 members, as best friends, just holding each other. Why? Because they were friends, and that's what friends did.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

Nate looked at Shane in bewilderment as he left them, microphone in hand. Then his eyes locked onto the girl who was singing and everything fell into place. That must be the girl Shane was looking for. A tiny smile slowly worked its way onto his face as he watched Shane add his own bridge to the girl's song. Typical Shane.

Still, he was glad Shane had finally found who he was looking for. Nate felt a warmth spread through his chest. He was glad to see Shane happy, something he hadn't seemed to be in such a long time_._ Reaching out a hand, Nate gripped Jason's hand tightly, eyes watching Shane's every move, and a smile on his face. He felt Jason start, saw the guitarist look at him out of his peripheral vision, and then felt a reciprocating squeeze on his hand.

Nate turned to face Jason and they both grinned at each other, hands dropping apart. It felt good to have _their_ Shane back. Hopefully, he would be here to stay this time.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

The campers were already in the process of dispersing and heading back towards the mess hall. There would be an after-jam supper, and the rumour was that Mrs. Torres had spared no expense in making this meal the best yet. Everyone was eager to be seated and eating, excitedly chattering about the results of Final Jam and, indeed, Final Jam itself's unusual layout. There had been last minute entries and unauthorised performances and a celebrity judge jumping in to create a duet. Never had there been a Final Jam like this one.

As Jason stood at the back of the Camp Rock theatre answering questions from bubbling fans, Nate jogged down to where Shane was standing by the judging table. As he heard footsteps approach, Shane looked up and grinned when he caught sight of Nate.

"Not gonna tell me you changed your mind about the winner already are you?" Shane asked, smirking.

"Whatever man," Nate replied, grinning. "I just wanted to say, I'm glad you found who you were looking for."

Shane's smile dropped a fraction before coming back full force. "That girl, she's the Hot Tunes China girl."

Nate's eyes widened. "No way dude."

"I'm serious," Shane said. "I'm really glad I didn't go too off at her. Well, I guess I did, but I'm not going to again. And that's what matters, right?"

"Yep," Nate replied with a decisive nod. "Good to see your forgiving side is back. Anyway," he said, looking over Shane's shoulder and seeing Mitchie duck down the stairs backstage, "I'll leave you to it. Go, do what you gotta do."

Shane nodded, took a step and then turned back around. "But what about the press? Don't they wanna do an interview or something?"

Nate smiled that trademark grin. "Already got you covered man. They're gonna talk with Margaret tonight and then I've scheduled them for a 10.00 A.M. interview with you tomorrow. The label's already impressed with how everything went down. And I spoke to them about some new stuff and while they weren't too impressed, they're gonna give us a go and see if they like it."

Shane stared at him in disbelief. How could Nate be so on top of everything? "That's excellent. Thanks for organising it all," he said genuinely.

"Yeah, no problem," Nate answered with a shrug. This was everyday stuff to him. "I'll see you later man. If you have any questions, you know where to find me."

They knocked fists and then Nate walked towards the back of the theatre, collecting Jason and heading out in the direction of the mess hall. Shane couldn't help the feeling of sadness that wormed its way into his chest. When had Nate become so grown up? When he had become so responsible? When had he outgrown the need for Shane as a big brother?

And, most importantly, how had Shane missed it?

With disgust and shame, Shane realised that _he_ had probably been the one to make such a change in Nate necessary. When he had gone off the rails, someone had needed to pick up the slack and that someone had clearly become Nate. Shane's actions had forced Nate to mature and grow far quicker than he should have.

Shane sighed. He couldn't undo what he had done, but he could prevent it from getting any worse. He allowed himself a small smile. Nate would never be too old for an older brother.

Especially an annoying older brother.

His devilish smirk returned. Oh yes, this could be fun.

()~~~~~()~~~~~()~~~~~()

_A/N: the end! I am so sorry about the outrageously long delay but I've just been so busy. Also, this chapter gave me so much trouble because it is practically irrelevant. That being said, I always wanted to write a Final Jam scene somewhere in here so I sort of tied all the ends together in this last chapter._

_Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this whole thing. And I especially want to thank everyone who took the time to review – some more than once! Your words always fill me with joy. Never underestimate the power of kind words!_

_DG777_


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